


Welcome to the Losers Club

by galaxymuncher



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Other, Suicide mentions, as well as some world building things, death mentions, friendships, more or less expanding on some friendships, platonic, this is sort of a rewrite, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxymuncher/pseuds/galaxymuncher
Summary: A collective of different stories featuring the losers club, expanding upon their friendships (many of which that were left out of the 2017 remake)WARNING: CONTAINS MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, DEATH, AND MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES.





	1. Tozier Explained

Tozier Explained

 

\---

The wind blew gently through the plains, stirring the grass and plants from their resting position. Clouds rolled overhead, eclipsing the sun slightly and casting a shadow across an open field, the sound of a passing train cutting through the peaceful silence of the moment. A young boy sat alone, nearest to the river that cut through the field, looking around anxiously as he checked his wrist frantically despite the fact that there wasn't a wristwatch on there at all. His patience was wearing thin as he stood up and paced about, his mind wandering a million miles a minute as he then spotted who he was waiting for cresting over the hill to meet him.

"Bev! Jesus, what took you so long?? I was sure that your bike had crashed into the local brickwall or something!" He had exclaimed, chuckling to himself at his own smart quip.

  
The person, now identified simply as 'Bev', rolled her eyes as she approached him, giving him a rather tight embrace before motioning him to follow her. The two walked along the plain for a few moments before finding a comfortable place to sit, still alongside the riverside.

"Alright, Richie, what's up? What's going on that you so desperately needed my advice for?" Bev asked, tilting her head to the side with a slight grin.

The boy now identified as 'Richie', took a moment, his normal joking demeanor all but vanished in that moment. Now was not the time to fool around...but instead it was the time to get serious. He gazed downward at the river in front of them, his gaze distant and melancholy. His hand reached out toward Bev, making a motion as if he wanted her to grab his hand to which she complied. After a few more moments of silence, listening to nothing but the birds chirping, distant squirrels scrambling up trees, the rushing of the river's water, etc. Richie finally found the words he'd been searching his mind for.

"Bev...what's gonna happen to us..ya know--after this whole mess is over?" He questioned, looking back over at her with saddened eyes.

She cocked an eyebrow upward, confused about what he was asking. "What do you mean?" She finally asked.

"I mean--god knows if we're gonna kick this thing's ass or not, but what if we do?" He began to clarify, motioning up to the sky in exaggeration with his free hand, "What's gonna happen when we do?? Are we just gonna---stop being friends? Say 'Oh great job everyone!', pat each other on the back and say bon voyage?! What's gonna happen, Bev??"

Richie was practically working himself into hysterics, his breathing grew heavier and more uneven, he began to shake as his glasses fogged from his heavy breaths. Bev knew just how to handle him when the situation called for, this had happened many times before during their times fighting IT and it's sporadic attacks, there were many times he'd thrown himself into panic attacks over what was happening to them. However, Bill or Stan were usually the ones to handle his panic attacks since they hung around him more often than Bev, yet they made sure to tell her what to do in case she found herself ever in a situation in the near future. She took a hold of his hand with her other free hand, gripping tightly but not too tight to cut off circulation, and pulled his hand in close to her chest. In the midst of unclear panic, he soon felt the familiar  _bah-bum_ ,  _bah-bum_ ,  _bah-bum_ , of a heartbeat and began to calm some, his breathing still rather fast and anxious.

"Shhh, Richie, listen...it's gonna be ok" Bev calmly began to explain, motioning for him to move closer, "We're all gonna be ok...I promise, we aren't parting ways, we aren't ever gonna separate, we're gonna be there for each other until we turn old and our backs give out so that we have to use wheelchairs to get around"

This response finessed a laugh out of Richie, taking him out of his anxiousness in that moment. He knew everything would be ok deep down but his internal conflict didn't allow him to truly believe it unless it was reciprocated by someone else first. The two sat there for a while, practically hunched over in giggle fits as they cracked jokes back and forth, exchanging witty banter as they normally would when they hung out. Soon the laughter died down and the silence crept in once more, but it wasn't deadly as it normally would be...it wasn't uncomfortable as it should've been...but instead, it was welcoming, relaxing even. Bev and Richie stared at the sky, watching the clouds roll along with smiles plastered upon their faces, it felt like time was frozen and nothing around them would move ever again. This, however, was broken in an instant when Bev finally got up, having let go of his hand a while back during their joke-fest. She looked over to him, hands on her hips as she seemed to exude a new type of confidence that Richie hadn't seen before...and was kinda proud of, considering what his best friend had to go through her entire life.

"Alright Rich, you think you're gonna be ok now?" She asked, holding a hand out for him to grab.

He nodded, taking her hand and yanking himself upward. "Now I am, but who know's what'll happen later on toot's! We might end up back at square one again and you'll have to grab the shovel to dig me out of the mound I buried myself in"

She chuckled at the comment, gently punching his shoulder, which caused him to stumble backwards some as he chuckled as well. Bev rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and giving him her signature, 'Quit your jokes' look she would give him when it was time to get serious.

"I know that'll happen Richie, it always does whether we like it or not" She stated, "But remember, we're always here for you, and if you EVER need anything--don't hesitate to ask, we're in this together...remember?"

Richie nodded again, following behind her as the two began to walk off. He turned his head for a moment to look back at the river and admire it briefly before he'd have to head back to the shithole he called a home. For the briefest of moments he thought he saw something float along onto the bank...something round and almost weightless, but upon shaking his head it was gone.

'It's just a trick of your head, Rich...cool it before your head completely pops off!' He thought to himself, turning his head back around forward.

He moved in closer to Bev, just to be sure of himself, to which she simply acknowledged him with a slight glance over and kept walking. The two didn't speak the entire time they walked to their own separate homes, they simply took in the town of Derry, the people, the sights, the smells, so on and so forth, and enjoyed the company of one another...no need for words or actions, simply existing would always be enough, well..at least, for Richie it was always enough.


	2. Simple Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: SUICIDE MENT, DEATH MENT, AND DEPICTIONS OF CUTTING  
> PLEASE TAKE CAUTION WITH THIS CHAPTER AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF BEFORE, DURING, AND AFTER READING.

Simple Promise

 

\---

 

The sun gently dipped down over the horizon, creating a gorgeous orange-pink-red hue as it slowly turned from late afternoon to dusk. The soft sound of music floated around the otherwise empty home of the Uris residence, a CD had been put in only moments early by the only son of Donald and Andrea Uris, Stanley. It was actually one of his mother's CDs, but he didn't care to think too much on it. Stan unknowingly walked around the house in a daze, looking about for something to distract him from the slideshow of images playing constantly in his mind. His hands shook as a specific image stood frozen, forcing him to look at it despite his protests against it, his eyes widened as his legs gave out and he fell to the floor.

' _No no no no no GOD please no...STOP_ ' Stan repeated in his mind, a mantra to rid himself of the fear he felt.

Nothing was working, he still laid there on the floor, his legs curled to his chest, his eyes now wet with tears. He felt everything all at once...the ugly eyes of the creature haunting him, the disgusting smell of the sewer where IT dwelled, the screams of him and his terrified friends as a barrage of furious attacks hurled their way towards them all...still fresh in his mind even after only the last attack had been two weeks ago. This summer was dragging on so long, and he only wished for it to stop so some normalcy could come back to him, no more IT, no more losers club...only him, his parents, and his studies. Without thinking, he slowly dragged himself across the hardwood floor toward the kitchen, the track on the CD changing from 'You Make Loving Fun' to 'As Long as You Follow', he only knew this as his mother once exclaimed that it was her favorite song one night, the night his father scolded her for listening to such 'hippy trash', the night...the both of them argued so loud he had to cover his ears with his pillow and prayed for them to stop.

_Now I know I can't lose...as long as you follow..I'm gonna win...I'm gonna beg, steal or borrow..._

Stan had finally reached the kitchen after what seemed like an eternity, every part of him sore from the slow and agonizing drag over. He grabbed the edge of the pristine kitchen counter, hauling himself upward until he was level with what he was looking for: the phone. Snatching it up out of the holder, he put it to his ear for a moment, just to make sure the dial tone would play and his phone wasn't broken, before dialing the familiar number he'd seen and put in many times before. One ring...two rings...

' _Come on dammit...I know you're there, answer!! '_ He thought again, his fingers drumming on the edge of the counter top, barely echoing as the music loudly drowned it out.

Three rings...

"Hello, Denbrough residence, may I ask who's calling?" Asked a female voice only moments later.

' _Thank god!_ '

"Mrs. Denbrough? It's Stanley Uris..is Bill there at all?" Stan asked, his voice only slightly shaky in his attempt to hide his panic.

"Of course, one moment please"

The phone clunked down on only what he assumed was a tabletop of sorts as she clicked off to find Bill. His gaze ran wildly around the familiar area of the kitchen, from the towel holder, to the sink, to the refrigerator with the papers and magnets holding them strewn about. Sweat drops beaded and slid down his face, running down until they plinked onto the counter...to which he quickly wiped each one that fell with the sleeve of his shirt. Moments later, the phone picked up again and someone different began speaking to him.

"Stan? Y-you called?" Went the voice, a twinge of familiarity in their tone.

"Bill! Thank god you're there..." Stan replied, sighing out of pure relief as he spoke.

"What's w-wrong? D-d-did something happen?"

There was a pause...why DID he even call Bill? What was the point? It seemed his mind unconsciously made the decision for him despite his reserved attitude toward the rest of the losers club. They were his friends but....after a while, he didn't know who to trust much anymore, any one of them could be IT in disguise and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference! This thought in turn terrified him more, increasing his panic by tenfold, his hand shook more, his breathing hitched...

"St-Stuh-Stan? Are you t-there?" Asked Bill with what sounded like deep concern and confusion.

"....I'm sorry I--I accidentally called you for no reason, that was foolish of me! I-I promise I won't do it again, goodbye Bill"

Before Bill could answer again, Stan hung the phone up with a loud  _CLUNK!_ Slinking once more to the floor. He heard the track change again to a song he didn't recognize on the album, it sounded solemn and distant as if he were listening to it while underwater. After a while of quietly sitting on the floor, head buried in his knees, Stan eventually got up and stumbled toward the stairs leading up to the second story...he was exhausted and wanted some rest...or perhaps he'd draw a nice bath to relax his nerves--yeah, a bath sounded rather nice.

_clunk...clunk...clunk_

His footsteps heavy on the hardwood of the stairs and floor, despite not wearing any shoes, as he made his way over to the left immediately upon arriving at the top of the staircase. Turning right immediately, Stan had made it into the main bathroom for his home (minus the master bathroom in his parents room), his vision a blur once more as he felt himself turn the faucet on the tub all the way, hearing the water rushing out as he did so.

' _Stanny boy! Why the long face? Don't you know that bath's are good for you?? They make you feel so relaxed! Take a load off and **FLOAT** a while!'_

Shaking his head, Stan closed his eyes and held his head tight, wanting to absolutely scream his lungs out. Last thing he wanted to hear was that THING'S ugly sing-song voice in his mind while simultaneously erase every trace of IT from his being entirely.

' _SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!_ '

He gripped his hair tightly as he finally let out a bloodcurdling scream, one he hoped his neighbors wouldn't have heard and called the police on him for. That was the moment when Stanley Uris gave in, shedding his perfect exterior to give way for whatever was forming now. He twisted the faucet off, yanking off the shower curtains as he thrashed about, screaming bloody murder.

' _Dirty dirty dirty disgusting..I feel disgusting...make it **STOP**!! _'

His arms were his weapon of choice as he hit the mirrors, nearly shattering them, knocking about important items off the counter top: his mother's make-up, perfume, brushes, and pins....and his father's shaver, toothbrush, and razors. But upon discovering the razors that had remained from the carnage, Stan all but stopped his thrashing. He carefully picked one up and examined it in the dull light of the fluorescent bulbs.

' _Still new...probably fresh out of the packaging, not even used...I wonder if--_ ' Stan pondered, a look of child-like curiosity crossing his features.

With the razor blade still raised upward, he looked around the room as if there were anyone home that could spot him. Just for safe measure, he went over and closed the bathroom door, locking it from the inside before going back to the sink. Stan sat with his back against the lower cabinets, his bath all but forgotten as he rolled up both his sleeves and began to test the blade against his skin. It glided perfectly cross Stan's wrist, causing him to flinch with both surprise and a pinch of pain. Moments later the blood drew and slid down his paper-white skin, dirtying it...and in a way, he enjoyed it, repeating the same action again but lower on the same wrist.

' _Why didn't I try this sooner? This feels...right_ '

A small smile came upon his face, replacing all anxiety with nothing at all, the rush of emotions he felt once before seemed to melt away with every stroke of the blade he made. No more thoughts of IT, no more thoughts of the phone call, no longer did he hear the droning music from the CD downstairs... no more anything: all of it gone in an instant as he kept slicing away at his wrists. Just as he got into a rhythm, he was taken out of it by the loud  _BANG!_ of the door being kicked in, as well as the loud incomprehensible shouts and protests of someone in front of him...but who was it? Stan looked up and saw....Bill? What was he doing here?? How'd he get into his house?? What was he saying?? Soon his brain made him tune into what was happening and he could hear once more.

"STAN! WUH-WH-WHAT ARE YOU D-D-DOING?!" Bill shouted, yanking his hands away from each other to further prevent anymore damage.

His expression was of deep concern and bewilderment, drawing in deep breaths over and over like an overheated dog in a warm car, showing he must've gotten here in quite the hurry just for him. Stan blinked twice before he looked down at one wrist, then the other, both streaming rivers of blood onto the floor and Bill's hands. He also noticed his pants were covered in droplets and puddles loose blood as well. Instead of any sort of expected reaction, he began to...laugh? Quietly at first, before steadily getting louder and louder by the moment.

"Why is thuh-thuh-th...this funny to y-you?? Have you g-gone _insane_?" Bill questioned, taking the razor from Stan's hand and shoving it to the side.

But he didn't answer, he kept laughing as the other helped clean him up. He watched as his wrists were rubbed clean of blood with a wet towel, which hurt like hell but Stan didn't seem to care, his legs and the floor cleaned perfect of any stains from the blood that had dripped down. The bath was drained, the room was tided from his outburst, and he still remained on the floor...laughing. Once everything was in order, Bill leaned back down to his level, looking him directly in the eyes. He then saw as Bill gripped his cheeks with both hands, holding them to make sure he was looking directly at the other and not anywhere else...concern melted away into seriousness.

"Stan t-tell me what's wrong t-this instant..." Bill demanded.

"Fine! You wanna know what's wrong??" Stan finally began to say, his eyes welling up with tears, his laughter disappearing like a puff of smoke, "This whole fucking thing is wrong!! All of it! I can't STAND the thoughts of what I've seen anymore, they TORTURE ME ENDLESSLY!!! I...I can't make them go away no matter how hard I try...the panic sets in and I freeze..so that's what THIS was all about, alright?!"

He motioned further with one of his wrists, both left unbandaged and plain for anyone to see. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, choking out a sob as he hung his head down in shame with the realization of what had happened. He felt so hopeless and small...like he could be crushed at any moment like an ant by the shoe of a careless child. As he cried his guts out, he could feel the warmth of his friend...or what he loosely referred to as a friend, Bill holding him tightly in a bear-hug, gently stroking his hair over and over as he softly comforted him with words of encouragement. Stan felt like a small child being comforted by a parent after falling and scraping himself badly, sitting there unable to doing anything but cry and cry and cry.

' _It's gonna be ok...nothing's gonna hurt you anymore...I'm here, we're all here...no need to be afraid anymore_ '

"Hey...l-lets get you out o-of here and back to yuh-y-your room.." Bill said quietly after a few moments, pulling him back to look at him with a soft smile.

The fluorescent lights made the look even more brilliant somehow, all the flaws on Bill's face wore away into their simplest form helped even more by the steam still lingering from the remnants of his failed bath.

Safety, at last.

He simply nodded in response as he was helped up by the other and guided down the fuzzy hall slowly, his vision still recovering from the breakdown moments ago, his hand gliding against the wall  along the way to help support his way over...even if he'd been down the same stretch of hall millions of times. With a soft  _pumf!_ Stan was sat down on his comfortable mattress, atop his duvet and sheets...only a few layers away from comfort and rest. He looked up at his friend with red and puffed eyes, sniffing a bit as he felt he may start crying again at any moment, unconsciously he grabbed the end of Bill's flannel button-up and held onto it tightly, like a lifeline in a way.

"B-Bill?"

"Yeah?"

"....Don't go"

Grip tightening with his shaky hand, he lowered his head until his gaze completely matched the floor...his attention drawn to his and the other's feet, one with shoes and one with still bloody socks from accidentally bleeding on them, but that would go untouched until the next day. Bill lowered himself to be eye level with Stan, his smile returning again as his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dimly lit room.

"I-I can't anyways, I told my muh-m-m-mom that'd I'd be s-staying the night with you...juh-just to be safe" He responded, placing a hand atop Stan's comfortingly.

And for the first time, as he looked over at the other, Stan felt himself smile...not in a self-induced craze, no--it was genuine and real. He'd be grateful to Bill for a long while after, his thoughts of leaving behind his friends briefly crossed his mind before he immediately crushed it to bits as if it were any other bad memory he had.

"Thank you...for even coming here...I didn't even know you'd do this" Stan stated, chuckling a bit as he tucked some hair behind one ear.

"T-The minute you hung uh-u-up I knew something was o-off, so I rushed here as fast as I-I could to see if I-I-IT had gotten you or suh-suh-something...but for now, lets g-get some rest"

He nodded, crawling further onto the bed and getting under the comfort and safety of his sheets. Patting the open space next to him, Stan scooted over some to allow Bill to crawl in next to him, thankfully he'd taken his shoes off before doing so, lest he wanted a stern lecture from him about why they needed to keep the bed clean at all times. Upon realizing he thought that, he smiled a bit wider, his usual personality was finally beginning to shine back...and he couldn't be happier, drifting off to sleep in content--feeling safe with Bill and the thought of all the losers club nearby to protect him from his insecurities, his paranoia, and more importantly...from that bastard of a creature and it's ugly claws.

' _We'll get you...you fucker--you'll get what's coming to you and we'll see who's laughing by the end of it_ '


End file.
